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<title>Never Tired by ArchitectOfTheStars (AdaEinar)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26595802">Never Tired</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdaEinar/pseuds/ArchitectOfTheStars'>ArchitectOfTheStars (AdaEinar)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Plance Fics [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, F/M, Family, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Lance (Voltron) is Good With Kids, Marriage, Pidge/Lance family, Plance Kids, Post-Canon, Post-War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:06:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>468</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26595802</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdaEinar/pseuds/ArchitectOfTheStars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance and Pidge still remembered the war, even after they had built a family and a life away from its shadow. But it didn’t bother them. They had each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lance &amp; Pidge | Katie Holt, Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Plance Fics [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933597</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Never Tired</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They never quite left the war behind.</p>
<p>How could they? It had been their identity, defined their roles in life, for years of their childhood. You can’t abandon your childhood, especially not a difficult, fast-paced, universe-changing childhood. But it slowly became only a small part of their life, something they remembered and prayed they’d never forget, but not something they thought about daily, either.</p>
<p>She never stopped standing with a wide, steady stance, prepared to fight if an enemy jumped her. It made people stare when she waited for her children in the parking lot at school, or when she gave guest lectures at universities. Then people remembered who she was and what she had done before she even came of age, and no one stared anymore.</p>
<p>He still made sure his aim was perfect at least once a month. The shooting ranges found it funny that he never dropped by for more than an hour, and never more often once every three weeks, but still managed to hit the target every time. They wondered why he bothered, living such a normal, quiet life. No one kept their aim sharp if they didn’t hunt or use firearms often. But then they heard his name when he checked out of the range, and they understood.</p>
<p>Their armor hung in the closet, gathering dust, but always visible. They never took either set out, but each caught the other staring at them every so often. Whenever that happened, the one who wasn’t lost in memory would pull the other into a hug and hold them until they came back to the present.</p>
<p>And, of course, their children begged for stories.</p>
<p>He told them better than she did—with more animation, better voices. But she remembered them better, down to the very commands she had entered into her lion. Alone, each parent could keep the kids occupied for hours—wide-eyed, refusing to go to sleep, eager to hear more about Mommy and Daddy’s adventures. Together, they were so captivating that their children wouldn’t grow bored or sleepy for days. And they never did run out of stories to tell.</p>
<p>Yes, they still remembered the war.</p>
<p>But more importantly, they still remembered each other.</p>
<p>When they were younger, the kids complained. They complained when they kissed, or hugged, or flirted. The two of them never stopped doing it, though, and eventually the kids grew old enough to appreciate it. Their love held their family together, through her occasional underperformance as a working mother, and his occasional wandering eye. They weren’t perfect. But as long as they remembered each other, they didn’t need to be.</p>
<p>There were bumps along the way, but they held through them, better for the wear. And they never tired of each other, even when they tired of life itself.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments bring me joy, which I need in social isolation! Seriously, constructive criticism is better than silence.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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